


lunatic

by pikatif



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Demon/Human Relationships, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, M/M, Magic School, Sick Character, hyuck has the demon flu, mark just wants to do his essays in peace, no its not hogwarts, plz read the notes, theyre in the uk!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26330908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikatif/pseuds/pikatif
Summary: So, apparently, demon flu’s pretty bad, and extremely bad if said demon hasn’t fed properly in literal weeks. Really, this whole thing never would’ve happened if Donghyuck wasn’t so stubborn, but alas. Mark just wants to write his essays and be done, but a mage’s life is never so easy, is it?
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 2
Kudos: 104





	lunatic

**Author's Note:**

> OKAYYYYY  
> ik ive been dead for aaaaaaages and school has just started so ~predictably~ i will write more now just to procrastinate  
> i will get back to caleo i promise but i got distracted w/ wips like this one - so here is a snippet from the demon au!!!  
> honestly i love this au but it's all self-indulgent alskdjasd  
> -  
> BASICALLY: the magic system for casters is that a human needs to be bonded to a demon in order to cast the Big Spells, and demons feed off DNA - so blood, among other things hehe  
> usually demons enter their human partners into a blood pact, where bloodletting is easier - but it's a literal curse and hyuck refuses to let mark and him have one, so hyuck never feeds off mark (also, something went wrong with their bond, so now they can't be more than a mile apart w/o mark teleporting to where hyuck is)  
> except... a while ago, they got into an incident where they needed to fight, so they french kissed until hyuck had some battery - and now the kissing thing is frequent, but they're not ~boyfriends~ (except, evidently, they are lmao)  
> but now hyuck has the demon flu, due to not feeding properly in weeks, and mark can't even kiss him. what to do...

“Ah, ah, _ah_ -” A pause, the silence stretching over the span of the whole apartment – nay – the whole campus- “CHOO!”

Dragging his hands down his face in the image of that one painting, Mark groans at his essay, tempted to delete the whole thing because in all likeliness, neither he nor Donghyuck will be going into school tomorrow. “God, is this how Minecraft dogs feel?” If only there was a sit command in real life.

See, if blood-deprived Donghyuck was a bitch, blood-deprived and flu-filled Donghyuck was Satan on Earth. After a very draining argument on both sides (over a bottle of milk, mind you), Mark had retreated to his room and drowned himself in writing essays for various projects he’d been assigned – all of which due in at least a month, so he didn’t really need to do them, but writing put his mind at ease and helped him zone out. It had become a self-care habit, growing up with stressful parents who often drove him to lock himself in his room.

However, the cacophony of sneezes from Donghyuck’s room are seriously distracting him, and what’s the point of doing all these essays if he can’t even hand them in?

Hell, he’d storm in and snog the living daylights out of Donghyuck if he could – it seemed to work pretty well last time – but the demon would hiss and spark every time Mark got within a metre of his bed. He’s certain Donghyuck’s conditions are severely worsened by the fact he hasn’t fed since that fateful day at the 24-hour Tesco, and he’s seriously contemplating force-feeding him some of his own spit in a cup. If only he weren’t so adamant on refusing Mark’s blood – and why he loathes the idea of a Blood Pact is still foreign to Mark. Every other Caster pair seems to have theirs already established, and those yet to do so are waiting for the blood moon. (Mark almost thinks Donghyuck got ill on purpose so he could skip out on meeting his family again.)

He bangs his head against the desk to clear his head before turning to his last resort: Renjun. He whips his phone out and bangs a string of texts in all-caps to his contact, tapping his foot rapidly as he waits for a response. The dots finally appear, and Mark stares intently, willing the words into existence. Instead, he receives a pair of laughing emojis. Mouth gaping in shock at the betrayal, he’s about to fling his phone across the room, until his phone vibrates and he picks up the call without even checking who it is.

Of course, it’s Renjun. Of course, he’s laughing. “Wow, what’s got the _totally perfect_ and _chill_ Mark Lee typing furiously in _all capitals_ over _multiple texts?_ ”

“Didn’t you fucking read them?”

“Alright, calm down, I was being sarcastic. Why do you need my help if your boyfriend’s ill?”

“He’s not my- whatever, he’s ill and pissy and won’t stop sneezing and I swear some grumpy senior’s gonna start banging on the door ‘cause of all the noise, or worse, just fucking curse us or something.”

“Oh, yeah, some third-year’s gonna waltz up and _avada kedavra_ your pathetic ass? You wish. Most third-years are up anyway, doing their last-minute _ME_ papers.”

“But that’s the thing! I was writing and I couldn’t concentrate because of his loud-ass sneezes, and what if I’m putting some other poor student through that stress too?”

_Judging silence_.

Sighing, Mark mumbles through gritted teeth, “He also stole my favourite hoodie and he’s still wearing it and I want it back.” _He also won’t kiss me_ , but that’s another story.

Renjun groans on the other side, extra staticy through the phone and Mark grimaces at the sound, knowing full well he meant for it to be annoying. “Okay, well, he’s a demon, so normal cures won’t work – at least to the same effect – and I come from a line of Witches, so I literally have minus points in experience when it comes to this stuff.” Mark can hear his shrug. “Sorry.”

He frowns, wishing they’d face-timed so his puppy eyes can convince Renjun otherwise; he has to settle for whining instead: “But _Injun_ , isn’t there _anything_ you can do? I’ll owe you, you know I _always_ pay off my debts,”

“But look at you, what could I possibly extort from such a disappointment?”

“I’ll write your next essay?”

“Too easy, you’d enjoy that.”

“I won’t tell Jaemin all the plushies you buy him are Chinese bootlegs. Not to mention Jeno’s limited edition figures…”

“Okay, so I’m broke-”

“….that you got from Wish-”

“ _Fine!_ I’ll fucking help, you evil shit. Geez, what happened to my innocent and naïve little bestie?”

“He spent a month with a demon.”

With a disapproving sigh, Renjun ends the call. What he doesn’t know is that all the ‘ _expensive art supplies’_ his boyfriends buy him are also, in fact, from Wish. In all likelihood, all three of them know they’re getting fakes for presents, and simply don’t care. Mark grins to himself, admittedly a little evilly, as he spins in his chair feeling like a Bond villain (if only he wasn’t allergic to cats). (Has he been spending too much time under Donghyuck’s influence?)

His thoughts are cut off by a text buzzing in his hand, but it isn’t from Renjun. It’s from his cousin Taeyong, and it makes Mark smack his face and cry out.

“Holy shit, it’s Thanksgiving _this weekend?_ ”

~

After so much hissing and scratching Mark wonders if he’ll start sneezing too from fucking allergies because Donghyuck’s literally behaving like a spoiled cat – never mind the germs – he finally succeeds in getting to sit by Donghyuck’s side on the covers, wiping sweat off his forehead as he scowls at his also scowling demon. When he measures Donghyuck’s temperature, it’s a full-on staring match, so tense it’s like those ones they do in World Cups before two countries play in a final to decide who wins, alongside all the other weird shit like letting an octopus act as prophet. Soccer is dumb, but football is just eccentric. ( _“They’re the same thing,”_ Donghyuck growls when Mark voices these thoughts.)

Yet, Mark can’t help but furrow his brows in concern as he scans over Donghyuck’s form. His skin is sallow and his breaths are heavy and grainy, his hair is curled with sweat and he fucking _stinks_ – he might have to say farewell to his favourite hoodie at this rate – and yet, Donghyuck still has the gall to glare and pout and scrunch his face and eyes up and still make Mark’s entire being squeeze at the sight. He should’ve run out of magic, so why does Mark feel like he’s under some sort of spell even now?

He sighs, pushing off the bed as he walks over to the wardrobe. “Never mind school, I’ll be missing one hell of a nice turkey.”

“Huh?” Donghyuck sniffles as he attempts to sit up, eventually flopping back down with a grumble. “Fuck, I hate being ill. I hate the Royal Mail. I hate Brexit.”

“You should hate the huge oil companies, they’re the ones causing all the crazy weather with all their pollution.” Mark flicks through the shirts until he finds a suitable change for the hoodie – not too thick or ugly, but nothing fancy either.

Donghyuck tumbles over in his bed, voice extra muffled now it’s stuffed into his pillow. “Least don’t ‘ave t’see m’family,”

Mark snorts at the weird tinge his accent takes, “Who are you, Old Macdonald?” He chucks the jumper at his demon, rousing him from his two-second nap. “Put that on so I can have my hoodie back.”

“Shit, this is yours?” he yawns as he stretches his arms. Suddenly, he gasps, “Holy shit. _Turkey_. Thanksgiving? Is it Thanksgiving?”

“No shit Sherlock, now can I have my fucking hoodie?” He holds his hand out, expectant.

Donghyuck just blinks furiously, making no move to get changed. “Wait, I thought Thanksgiving was next month?”

“That’s in America.”

“ _Ohh_ , sorry, I keep thinking you’re all the same people.” Mark doesn’t mean to glare, but must because Donghyuck even goes as far as to stutter an apology. “Am I keeping you from your family? Shit, I’m so sorry.”

Maybe it’s the sudden pity he doesn’t want, or the care in Donghyuck’s tone despite him being the one drowning in snotty tissues, or even just the loss of his limited edition $120 Sailor Moon hoodie, but Mark can’t stop himself from snapping, “Why won’t you just drink my blood?”

Donghyuck’s mouth falls open, no sound made as he freezes. A moment passes until he frowns, taking a hand up to blow his nose once more, but still doesn’t reply.

“You know if you drank my blood you’d probably get better in a day or two, right?”

“I’m not drinking anyone’s blood.” The jab is sharp and instant, and it’s meant to be a deflection but it hits Mark in the rib, tearing through flesh.

“ _Why?_ Every single other demon at school is totally fine with it, so what fucked up shit did you have to go through to make you hate blood so fucking much?” It’s a crescendo, the air trembling in its wake. “If you told me your fucking feelings for once maybe we wouldn’t be having so many problems!”

A growl is the only warning before Donghyuck shouts, “I’m _scared_ , okay?”

The silence holds its breath. Thankfully, the tension’s broken by a knock on their apartment door.

Jeno’s voice chirps through the walls, “Guys, are you gonna let us in before Christmas?”

Mark trudges over, but not before he’s shot a harsh stare at Donghyuck, making him retreat further beneath his blankets.

He flings the door open to reveal not one, but two Witches. One he is happy to see, at the other he grimaces.

Yangyang just starts yelling, “Where is he? Huh? I wanna see the demon flu! Do you know how _rare_ demon flu is? _So?_ Where is he? _I wanna see!_ ”

Before Mark can even formulate a reply, Yangyang wriggles past and bounds through the apartment, causing destruction as he goes in the form of a knocked-over lamp and a spilled glass (just water, thankfully). He turns back to Jeno with a look that says ‘ _what the fuck did you bring Satan’s favourite grandkid here for?_ ’

Jeno shrugs back with a look that replies ‘ _he asked and I couldn’t say no, right?_ ’

Groaning, Mark pulls Jeno in and shuts the door. “So, do you have some fancy potion that’s gonna cure the ungrateful bitch?”

Jeno chuckles, tapping his shoulder bag, “It won’t cure the bitchiness, but it should help the rest.”

~

Jeno was half-right: it didn’t cure Donghyuck’s mood, but it also didn’t cure the sickness.

“When was the last time he fed?” Jeno leans in and brings his hands together, interlocking them as he rests his chin on them, and if Mark didn’t know better this might have been an interrogation over murder. He just hopes Yangyang doesn’t get the same idea and start shining his phone light in his eyes, else he might actually have to fight someone.

Mark gulps, fiddling with the hem of his shirt as he hums in mock thought; memories of their – _whatever they were_ – aren’t exactly the best thing for his mentality right now, especially after their fight. “Well, uh, like- like _blood_ , specifically?”

“What?” Yangyang bobs his head over Jeno’s shoulder, like some cartoon devil convincing the protagonist to commit a crime. “ _Duh_ , unless you’ve been giving him _other forms_ of DNA?” He waggles his brows suggestively and Mark has to shut his eyes so he doesn’t start punching anything.

Jeno flicks his temple, sending him rolling away in pain like a sentient bowling pin, all while remaining professional. “When was the last time Donghyuck drank an actual person’s blood?”

“Ah.” Mark sighs: he can do that. Easy-peasy. “Maybe… a month ago? Three weeks?” kay, so he doesn’t know the exact date, but it’s a start.

Things never go to plan for Mark, and Yangyang ends up shining a whole-ass torch in his face as he pops up again (where the fuck did he even get that?). “ _Specifics_ , Mark, this is a _formal_ investigation!”

As soon as he recovers from the sudden light, he snatches the torch and chucks it behind him. There’s a clatter, and he hopes it’s just that ugly burgundy vase left over from the last residents. Ignoring Yangyang’s gasp, Mark continues. “He sort of fed on some, uh, cow blood from the supermarket, three days ago.”

Jeno hums in consideration, rubbing his chin, and Mark thanks the gods that he wore contacts today because Mark is but a simple boy, and he can’t promise Renjun and Jaemin anything if Jeno is in his house and adjusting his glasses looking like a four-course meal. Hell, he can hardly handle Donghyuck, and he’s lying grave in his bed, half-dead and completely gross.

Anyway, Jeno finally comes to a conclusion: “He needs blood. It’s the only thing that will let him recover.”

Mark blubs like a fish, no words spoken as he stares. He stops when Yangyang’s wheezing starts gaining volume, turning to glare at the ginger, who promptly raises his arms in surrender.

Jeno sighs, “My potions and spells work on all the other demons, but you and Hyuck don’t have a Blood Pact, and blood deliveries are still delayed. He’s starved – too weak for the potions to work because all they do is boost your immune system, and his is in _tatters_ -”

“Wait, so there’s nothing else you can do?”

He shakes his head, “Not until he gets some proper food.”

Yangyang finally has a suggestion; it’s not a good one: “Ooh! I can voodoo some energy into him- though that’s _technically_ a curse-”

Both Mark and Jeno warn, “ _Yangyang_.”

He raises his arms again, flopping down onto the sofa. “Alright! No dark magic. ‘Cause you’re _boring_.”

With a small smile, Jeno pats Mark on the shoulder. “You need to give him your blood, whether he wants it or not.”

Jeno’s stiff tone suggests he knows Donghyuck is entirely against the idea, but it’s also vaguely threatening so Mark gulps and nods tightly. This time when Jeno smiles, it’s bright and crescent-eyed, and he chirps encouragement as he leaves. Yangyang tags along, flashing a thumbs up before turning it upside-down and sticking his tongue out.

Mark sighs, staring at the syringe leering at him in the bright dorm lighting. “This is gonna be fun.”

~

Mark decides to wait until the sneezing has died down completely and the sniffles have fizzled out into scratchy breathing and the occasional snore. He cracks the door open, smiling as he sees Donghyuck tucked away in his duvet and blankets, chest heaving steadily in his sleep. He creeps in, making sure to keep his phone light away from Donghyuck’s line of sight, grinning wider when he sees his hoodie as he nearly steps on it. Of course, he doesn’t look where else his foot is going, and stumbles into the bookshelf, hitting his forearm right where he’d jabbed the needle.

It takes every ounce of restraint Mark is capable of and more for him to hide his pain, shove it in a box and tape it up. He wiggles on the spot until the pain dies down, finally letting his breath out in relief as congratulations for having made no sound. Of course, this comes out as more of a sigh, and Donghyuck stirs in his bed. Mark stifles a squeak, hoping his heartbeat isn’t as loud on the outside as it is on the inside (because it’s _deafening_ there). Luckily, Donghyuck doesn’t wake up, so he relaxes again and tiptoes the final stretch until he’s at his bedside.

Good thing he thought to put his blood in a bottle rather than a glass, because that would’ve definitely been a stain on the carpet at this point otherwise. He places his phone down, and now it doesn’t really matter if Donghyuck wakes up, because he sort of needs to else he’ll probably choke on the drink.

He taps Donghyuck on the cheek; no response. Pouting, Mark prods a little harder, but still gets nothing. He doesn’t want to shake the damn bed, and Donghyuck will probably claw his eyes out if he shakes _him_ , so instead Mark takes advantage of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity: he boops his nose. Still nothing. He frowns as he pokes every one of his moles, hoping one of them might be the on button, until his fingers settle in Donghyuck’s soft (albeit greasy) curls, drawing circles until he finally feels him stir.

He swats a hand up, knocking Mark’s out of the way, squinting as he mumbles, “Fuck’re you doing?”

“Here, sit up.” Mark hooks his arms under Donghyuck’s shoulders and lifts him, heaving slightly because Donghyuck really _is_ dead in terms of weight.

“What- why-”

“Shh,” Mark sets him down, and Donghyuck moans a little when he lets go. He’s back soon though, one hand on the back of his head as the other lifts the bottle up. “Drink this, it’ll make you feel better.”

Donghyuck’s face contorts, eyes still shut but Mark knows a judging stare when he sees one. “What, tryna drug me? Trade me for ransom? Sorry, but my family kinda hate me, so that won’t work.”

Mark rolls his eyes, “Shut up and drink, dumbass.” When Donghyuck still hesitates, Mark tacks on a white lie. “Jeno made it, said it’s some fancy potion that’ll make you feel better.”

At this, Donghyuck finally grabs the bottle, holding it with two shaky hands. He sniffs, sounding unconvinced, “Are you sure? Ain’t no mint-smelling thing like usual.”

“Oh, uh,” Mark stutters, wishing he’d prepared a backup story, “yeah, he put some flavourings in it, so it’s like savoury, bloody – he was thinking of you, y’know.”

He lets out a puff that might be a laugh, might be a cough, might just be a sound of disapproval. “Aww, he finally remembered I fucking hate mint. Well, cheers,” and he downs the thing in one go, simple as that.

Mark’s jaw drops: _it was that easy?_ God, he should’ve just tricked him on his own yesterday.

“Wow, the flavours are spot on, what the fuck.” Donghyuck looks genuinely confused, his wide, glowing eyes blinking as he licks his lips, and Mark’s stomach does a flip again.

“Y-yeah, it’s like those veggie burgers that taste like meat, I think.”

“Fucking hell. Props to Jeno, I feel literally a thousand times better already. Hell, I might even get up right now and-”

Mark hastily grabs Donghyuck’s outstretched arm before it can reach his bedside lamp switch – he can’t see that the bottle is red, Mark can’t bullshit his way past _that_ – so he does the next best thing which is put on his best mother voice. “ _Ah-ah_ , Jeno said you have to rest for a _full day_ after you take that. Uhh- it’s _especially important_ you get a full eight hours’ sleep, doctors’ orders,” He lies with a shaky voice that he hopes Donghyuck doesn’t catch onto.

He grumbles, but lets his hand drop and Mark grab the empty bottle. “Yes, mother.”

“Shut up, you get to miss _ME_.”

“Oh, then piss off so I can sleep through the next 24 hours already.”

~

There’s another knock at the door the next morning, and Mark expects it to be Jeno or Yangyang or both, maybe Renjun, so his squeal is completely valid when he opens it to reveal his cousin in the flesh. Now, Mark isn’t usually super self-conscious, especially when it’s 7:00am and Donghyuck mentioned just last week that his bedhead was cute, but that’s not the point here because his cousin is literally _the_ perfect human being, capable of making Beyoncé feel self-conscious, of turning more straight men than Park Jimin or Henry Cavill, of making-

“Oops, am I early?” Taeyong coos, snaring Mark in a hug before Mark can even exclaim that _yes, it’s fucking 7:00AM on a Friday what the fuck are you doing here and how did you even find this more-secret-than-Hogwarts institution in the first place or are you just stalking me?_

All he manages to croak is “Hyung, I don’t even have pants on.”

“Aww, don’t be shy, I’m your cousin! We’ve literally had baths together.”

_When we were like five!!!_

He lets go of Mark and waltzes in, frowning at the broken vase and messy cushions over the sofa. “This place is a mess, but that’s… expected.”

“Please, please, _please_ don’t go clean freak on me right now I swear to god,” Mark mutters as he rushes to his room in search of some jeans.

Of course, Taeyong sniffs out the dustpan and brush like a bloodhound to contraband, and promptly begins to clean up the ugly burgundy shards. “I don’t see a suitcase anywhere, or have you hidden it somewhere else?”

“ _Fuck_ , my god, Tae-”

“- _Language_ -”

“Whatever, but-” He sighs, stepping back out once he’s fully clothed- “I can’t come over this year.”

There’s a noisy clatter as Taeyong drops his pan, “What?”

Mark winces, wishing there was some way to explain being a magic user who’s also bonded to a cute demon but with a faulty bond that teleports him to said demon’s vicinity, oh and not to mention the fact that their magic is powered by French kissing-

Donghyuck’s whiny voice cuts through the shocked silence, incredibly loud and sickly sweet even through at least two layers of walls, “ _Mark_ , who the fuck is shouting out there, I swear I’ll bite them,”

Though he knows he won’t see it, Mark glares daggers in his direction, “Shut it, Donghyuck, it’s my _cousin_.”

“Ooh, can I meet them?”

“You’re _ill_ , fucking act like it dumbass.” At Donghyuck’s responding ‘ _aww’_ , Mark turns back to Taeyong with a huff; he’s staring intently, with that thin smile that means trouble, and Mark raises a brow in wariness. “Uh, Taeyong? Why’re you staring like that?”

He just nods, giggling a little as he backs up. “ _Alright_ , okay, I get it. You don’t have to explain, your secret’s safe with me.”

“What secret- _hyung!_ ”

But Taeyong’s already prancing out the door, yelling, “Remember to stay safe! Love you!”

And the door shuts again. Mark grumbles – he didn’t even get to ask how he’d found the damn school – but he’s distracted yet again by a high laugh echoing down the hall. He stomps over to Donghyuck’s room, opening the door with the meanest glower he can muster; it can’t have been that bad, because Donghyuck just keels over in further hysterics at the sight. His laughs turn to coughs soon though, and Mark remembers that he’s still got the flu, it’s just now he’s got some proper energy to combat it.

He bundles over the strewn clothes and blankets across the floor to land on Donghyuck’s bed again, patting his back as he coughs until it stops. Donghyuck fakes a belch, “ _Blegh_ , I still feel like shit.”

Mark rolls his eyes, _all that work and not even a thank you_ , but hands him his glass of water from the bedside anyway. “And that’s why _I_ , Mark Lee, am here today for this one-day free credit special offer as your personal maid, Ts & Cs apply, agree at your own risk, one-time-only limited offer.”

“If I say no?”

“I’m fucking lugging you to school.”

“Not Canada?”

His breath catches at that – Donghyuck’s tone was so serious. “I… No, I’m not going. I don’t really get on with my family either. Apart from Taeyong, of course.”

Still, Donghyuck smiles and the mood is light again. “I was gonna say,” he huffs, stretching his arms, “I mean at this rate, who _doesn’t_ have family issues?”

Mark scoffs, “Liars.”

Donghyuck giggles at that, this time with only one cough in between. “So, about the offer… what _are_ the terms and conditions?”

Mark swings an arm out in invitation. “Ask and you shall receive.”

“Will you wear a maid outfit?”

“No.”

“Will you drive me to the Nature Reserve where they have the cute baby polar bear?”

“I don’t have a license.”

Donghyuck moans in frustration, reaching out to pinch Mark’s cheeks but failing as he can’t reach, “What _can_ you do?”

He shrugs. “Uh, I make a mean green tea?”

Donghyuck deadpans, “You burned water literally last week.”

“Okay, _no_ , I left it in the microwave too long and when I took it out the ceramic had burned, _that_ was what set the fire alarm off-”

“Why didn’t you just use the kettle like a sane person?”

“ _Shut up_ , it wasn’t working,”

“Did you check the plug?”

“I-” Mark scowls, turning away in an attempt to hide his burning cheeks, but Donghyuck’s already seen them by the sound of his cackling- “Shut it or I _will_ actually drag you to class.”

The laughter dies down and dh yawns, melting back into his nest of blankets. “M’kay, I’ll be quiet.”

Mark smiles back as Donghyuck’s eyes start to flutter closed, but not before Donghyuck’s grabbed his hand and made his first command, “Stroke my hair like you did last night.”

He grumbles but obliges, “Yes, your majesty.”

He doesn’t owe it to the demon to be nice at all, especially considering their stress-induced fight the night before. Mark thinks he can let Donghyuck’s secrets slide for now, as long as they don’t cause another mess like this. However, he doesn’t think twice about agreeing to Donghyuck’s every wish that day, though it turns out to be just that one; he circles the greasy curls and draws into his head until Donghyuck mumbles that he’s bored of that, so Mark moves on to tracing the lines of his face, bumping over the curves, occasionally poking a mole. Donghyuck’s too tired to scold him for that when it happens, rather blinking his eyes open for a scathing second before going right back. Mark knows he’s asleep when the blinks stop happening, lashes fluttered shut, his heartbeat a metronome to the tune of his light breathing.

Donghyuck sleeps for the rest of those 24 hours. Mark sort of regrets putting a time limit on his offer, only getting to stroke his hair.

It’s not like he wouldn’t have done it again anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> hehehe  
> yes ik the magic system is straight out of an ecchi but im a weeb what can i say  
> and yeah, the rest of the au is more spicy, but all of it is in pieces and i never write the setups in between lmao so it'll be a while before it's ready  
> oh and ME stands for magical ethics, it's as boring as it sounds  
> there is also another wip i have... i got back into it and it is very fun..... BUT caleo will be asap *jungwoo's voice*


End file.
